Cracks in the Walls
by LexiLopezi
Summary: Minecraftia's time might be almost up. Rips in the very fabric of reality are appearing, torn open by a fanatic cult who call themselves The Salvation, bent on bringing about the End. This tired group of misfits and mercenaries is one of the few things standing between destruction and deliverance. Question is, which one will succeed?
1. Welcome To Ithaca

This is Ithaca, grand capital of the server of Mam. It's crawling with assassins, politicians, mobsters, and mysteries. Some say the safest place in the capital would be the prisons. They'd be right.

The girl leans against a brick wall with the easy grace of a cat, covered in grime and dust. The girl, that is, although it could apply to the wall, too. The alley is dark, perfect for hiding in and watching the world go by.

Or, in her case, mapping out an escape route for later.

Having decided on a path, she climbs a rusty old fire escape to the highest apartment, brown boots sure of each step despite the rickety staircase's going-to-fall-to-bits appearance, and lets herself in, taking one last glance around before the door closes with a click.

There is a knock.

* * *

She stands to the side of the more conventional front door to the apartment and opens it a crack.

"Whatcha want?" Her voice has a strange growling-but-not-quite edge.

"We have… a proposition." As they cannot see her, she can't see them.

"Sorry, boss ain't takin' no more assignments, gonna retire after this one las' job."

"Strange. We had the impression we were speaking to the boss herself." The voice now comes from behind her. "Mind dropping the accent? I hate it when you do that."

She whirls around, surprise and wariness in equal amounts on her face. How-

There are three of them. The first is the speaker, she assumes, for the voice is feminine, and the only girl out of the three. Bright red hair spills out from the hood of her jacket, made to look like an Enderman, with dully glowing purple eyes and a pair of fangs. The material is familiar, able to withstand explosions and being tossed into lava. She has only met one person with that shirt.

The second, an Enderling, clad in a tatty purple shirt that looks like it's been through wars, which matches a shock of purple hair on top of his head. The more archaic term for them would be Voidmage. Having descended from Endermen, they are masters of teleportation and magics.

The third is clothed entirely in dull white. Maybe not the best choice of camouflage. He has an axe blade pointed at her.

And likely many other sharp pointy things of death about his person.

"Lexi Lopezi, runner and errand girl for Spark, the mercenary for hire, aka yourself. Hello again, Loppy. How long's it been, ten years?"

The first's sharp gaze roots her to the spot. She knows them. They are Alpha Lunaris, Seth A. Rama, Taichi Wind.

"Ten years, seven months, three weeks and twenty one days." She has kept track of how long it has been since she last saw her home. A final glance through some arcane portal, then... her memories of the times between then and now are still fuzzy.

Wind snorts. "That much time spent running from us? Which part of 'stay put' didn't you get?"

"Uh, all of it? I didn't get any message, I didn't see the bat after I sent you guys the second letter, and I then I got stranded in this place with so many reality tears I can't teleport out. I've spent _ten_ years fixing them! Managed to clear a path yesterday, and, well… _this_ happened," she gestures wildly with her hands. Her right sleeve slips back, revealing her arm. The flesh is black, tendrils of darkness creeping up the tainted limb. Shadows writhe and twist around it, an otherworldly dance.

"You _stuck your hand_ in a _Void-level reality tear_?!" Alpha screeches. Lopezi forgot how loud the redhead could be. Lowering her voice, the squad leader continues. "Remember what happened last time? The guy jumped in and climbed out as a _mutated force of evil_."

"I was pushed, actually, and I kinda, sorta tripped on a loose tile, too. Tried to save this little guy," she says. A silvery head pokes out of a pocket in her raincoat and squeaks. Alpha's eyes soften slightly. "His name's Click. I think he's one of the 'Silverfish' scouts we sent out that never came back. Anyroad, nothing's happened apart from the Notchdamn thing itching like crazy."

"You always were clumsy," Seth sighs and looks to the heavens. "Shoulda known you'd manage to almost kill yourself."

"So, you coming back, or do you have some unfinished business here? I'll tell you something you should know, though. The boss is _pissed_. Choose wisely." Wind narrows his eyes. "We'll give you a week's head start if you want to run."

A small grin forms on her face, the first in weeks. "Why'd I want to run? The Keep's my home, and I'm coming even if I have to fly 'til my wings tear off and my fire burns out. And after that I'd walk."

The Voidmage rubs his hands together, purple particles flying from his fingers. "Then get your things and we'll go. I'll need a few minutes to open up a Teleportato."

"Heheh. Telepotato."

"Seriously, ten years and you couldn't have forgotten _that_?"

She sticks her tongue out at him. "Telepotato."


	2. Home Is Where The Hurt Is

With all her worldly possessions in her backpack, the girl is teleported to a vast throne room and relives her first day of employment under the god known as Herobrine.

That is to say, being slammed into a wall by an invisible force. Again.

"Ow." At this rate, her bruises will have bruises. "With all due respect, sir, do you have to do this to every new employee?"

He lounges on his throne, white eyes blinking languidly. "Yes. Now, unless you want to be seen as a member of or a spy for some organization that hates me, numerous as they are, I suggest you answer Alpha's questions." A snap of his fingers makes the force haul her up in midair by the scruff of her raincoat, turning her to face Alpha.

Alpha takes out a small notepad. "One, what did you do that time that turned your hair blue?"

Lopezi scratches her short black hair ruefully. "Tried to mix C4 and lapis for some fireworks. Didn't go so well. Had to do all the paperwork for a month, after cleaning up the mess. Blech. Good thing it wore off."

"Two, what are you?"

"I'm… a unique accident. Was egged in the End, but hatched in some desert in the Overworld, Sandsea, I think it was. Idiot 'Crafter stole my egg. He didn't count on me escaping through his Nether portal… and falling in a lava pool. Left for dead, I was. I gotta theory that Enderdragons were originally from the Nether or Overworld, but managed to get to the End, and constant exposure to the Void has made them evolve into what they are now. Stole… er, found some texts corraborat-"

"Yeesh, you're starting to sound like Seth when he talks about redstone."

"I do _not_ sound like that." Seth is talking in his 'pissed off scholar' voice now.

"True. You're way more longwinded."

"Dude, you had pie charts." added Wind. He folds his arms and glares at Seth. "And graphs. _And_ 3D models made to a scale of one is to I don't even know what ratio."

"Get on with the next question."

Alpha pouts dramatically. "So _demanding_, Seth. Three, what's the name of the oldest cook in the kitchens?"

"Old Clank, but it's not his real name because he can't remember it, so he can't tell us. Can you please let me go now?" The force dissipated, leaving her to drop to the floor. Her boots thumped solidly on the red carpet. It was new, she noted, no scorch marks.

A presence spears into her mind, sifting through memories like a miner pans for gold. She remembers flashes of breaking through eggshell, falling into lava, crawling out alive onto strange red rock that looked like brains. Finding another Hellgate like the one she had been through, purple substance around her, and grass beneath her claws. And flying for the first time, the world passing by below. Following the white-eyed not-human, helping to build the very fortress she stood in now.

There are more memories, recent ones, that pass by too quickly for her to catch. Glimpses of running, shooting behind her, hiding. And an emptiness-but-not, where her arm used to be, was, is?

The dragon blinks, and her vision clears, returning to the spacious obsidian hall.

"She is not an impostor, nor have her loyalties changed." Is it just her imagination, or is her boss smiling, just a teensy bit? "Welcome back. You've been missed." He wipes all expression off his face. "You are all dismissed. Go report to Commander Sorenson. I have to go meet with Notch, discuss some Salvation incursions in the north."

* * *

Tobias Sorenson, the young and competent commander of the Rho and Sigma squads, part of the Keep's general mission teams.

Seth teleported behind the tall figure scribbling away at a desk.

"'Sup, Chief."

"Spawn of a- don't _do_ that. I almost shot you. Again."

Seth pushes the shotgun muzzle away from his face with a finger. "Yeah, yeah, won't do it again. More paperwork?"

"I hate this stuff." Tobias's figure is slumped with fatigue, and his normally stern buzzcut looks more like a yellow rat corpse. A mug lies, empty, on its side. "How'd it go?"

"Extraction mission was successful, and Wind already wrote up the mission report. Rho squad still off info-gathering?"

"Yeah, they're coming back tonight. You guys take Lopezi to the medic's for a checkup, bring her up to date with all the changes. I'll debrief both teams later."

"Sure thing, Toby. See ya." The Enderling surreptitiously makes the coffee mug refill itself.

"Urgh."

As the office's door shuts with a click, Tobias takes a shaky sip of java and prepares to tackle the paperwork, which Herobrine is too damn lazy to do, preferring to give it to his underlings. Poor things.

* * *

They show her all the changes that have been made. More secret tunnels, weaponry improvements, upgrades to the security. All this worries her. She notes that there are much more people than before, most of which carried injuries, or were underfed.

"They're… they're not recruits, are they?" The girl nods at the long line of patients waiting outside the medical wing. She'd just finished her medical examination, which had largely consisted of a medic trying to take a sample from her 'infected' arm without any success. And scolding her for breaking his favorite bonesaw.

Wind looks sideways at Seth and Alpha. They all step behind a tapestry into a small, hidden alcove.

"Look, you should've heard of the Salvation, right? They've been carrying out raids on Herobrinist _and_ Notchist places. These are all refugees. Those Salvatores, as they call themselves, have been making deals with those you don't want to make deals with. Eyewitnesses report that they can open rifts, and summon _monsters_." The word monster is not used lightly in the Keep, and Seth's expression contains no trace of humor.

Wind joins in. "They talk of tentacles that wrap around you, and how skin melts away at their touch. Flying spheres of eyeballs and muscle and a gazillion fanged mouths. Humanoid figures with clawed limbs and empty eye sockets, and are wreathed in darkness."

"In fact, Salvation activities have increased in the past decade in Ithaca, close to where you lived. Disappearances have been reported to the police, but there are no leads. It's like they've just vanished." Alpha leans against the wall.

The girl narrows her eyes. "Or been dropped into a reality tear and mutated."

"That too," Seth nods. "There are sightings of strange creatures, but are mostly dismissed as drunken hallucinations. We know for a fact that the Salvation are using Ithaca as headquarters, since there are so many tears and homeless people to experiment on. We just haven't been able to breach it yet. Too many civvies, too many baddies, too many people altogether."

"We're gonna do something about it." For all her centuries of existence, Lopezi is still considered a Wyrmling in her people's terms. "Right?"

"Sure thing, Loppy. Let's get some food into us first, though. It's our week to help Cook in the kitchens. C'mon."

The afternoon and early evening is spent in the kitchens, under the watchful eagle eyes of Cook. The girl is content to lose herself in a flurry of chopping, peeling, and the hundreds of other things to be done to feed the inhabitants of the Keep. And stealing a chocolate chip cookie whenever Cook isn't looking.


	3. All Limbs Not Accounted For

**Silverfish and Salvation**

_A/N: Bit of a filler, my brain is aching. I'll work on some plot during my one week of school holiday in September, maybe._

Lopezi chases after the silvery flash of scuttling metal that decided to run straight into a three-way mob war. It's chaos in the streets; people screaming, brawling, running for their lives. She dodges away from two men swinging at each other with broken bottles and ducks behind a battered car for shelter. Don Tissic must be the instigator of this; half of the fighters are his white-robed Preachers.

She bites her lip, wondering just how in the Nether is she supposed to reach her only possible way home. Oh look, it's now climbing up the side of that ridiculously tall office building, crawling with itchy trigger fingers.

_This can't possibly get any- ah great, I've jinxed myself._

Bullets embed themselves into the chipped brick wall behind her, and she decides that now is a very good time to find another hiding place. She pulls back her arm and lobs a bluish-green orb at the roof of the office building.

_-vwip-_

Purple particles solidify at the roof's edge to become a girl and her grey raincoat. The silvery thing squeaks and scurries past her; she lunges but only succeeds in getting bruised knees. It runs through an open door and down some stairs. Gunshots sound from the floors below.

"'Ey! Wait up! I jus' wanna talk!" Feet almost tripping over themselves, she stumbles into a standoff between Preachers dressed in white with guns, and a tiny metal silverfish trying to nibble them to death. Four men: one with an eye-patch, a huge weight-lifter type with gorillas somewhere in his DNA, a really short dwarf, and a guy with a red headband against a bug. Needless to say, the Preachers won. Although… Preachers don't normally have black tri-swords on their clothes.

"Hey boys, we got us a little girl," said Eye Patch.

"Came running after her _pet_, did she?" Gorilla Face sneers, then yelps. "Ow! You cheeky-" He proceeds to cuss out the plucky little silverfish (attached to his finger by its teeth), and its ancestry three generations back. Eloquent fellow, isn't he?

"Whaddaya want us t'do wit' 'em, Hawk?"

"Hawk… four people… all wearing red somewhere… you're the Red Blood Band? Thought you weren't working wit' Tissic after the Casino Heist."

Shorty and Eye Patch snigger at the mention of working for Tissic.

Headband, now identified as Hawk, shakes his head and grins. "Now, where would a girl like you hear of a mercenary gang like us?"

"Two years ago, you were bodyguards for the Black Widower. The dame wanted someone gone, someone who ratted her out for poisoning her, what, fifth husband? She hired the Spark, I negotiated the pay."

"Since we didn't tell anybody 'bout that, and I remember this scrappy kid's raincoat, I'd say she's telling the truth," Eye Patch chuckles "but we ain't working for Tissic. You shoulda heard of the Salvatores."

"So, what do we do with little girl?" Gorilla Face rumbles.

"Can't kill her, the Spark'll come after us. Besides, the Red Blood Band don't kill kiddies. We might be mercs, but we're mercs with standards. I say we let her off, more trouble than it's worth. Just plant the bomb and let's go."

Shorty takes a large box out of his satchel and fiddles with some wiring sprouting from the top of it like deranged hair. A timer starts counting down.

"Wait wait wait. That ain't no normal bomb. W-w-where'd you get a Cogsley Nexus? The initial explosion alone would vaporize the whole capital, not to mention the black hole it creates!" Her street kid accent has disappeared completely.

"Our job isn't to-" Hawk's face goes blank, along with the rest of his team. They move almost mechanically now, almost like… mental conditioning, or even mind control. Shorty sets the bomb in a corner and walks off with Hawk and Gorilla Face. Eye Patch claps his hands together, and brings them apart.

Something rips, not a physical noise, but a feeling.

The space between his palms is literally nothingness, but Lopezi feels stirrings just beyond what she can see, and whispers tickle at the edge of her hearing. Every instinct screams at her to run, that whatever lies inside the space is bad _bad __**bad**_.

**Good. I will take it from here. Return to the meeting point.**

Eye Patch leaves, and now she is alone.

**So much fun to play with prey.**

Two white eyes blink open in the tear, shining with a harsh light that makes her feel empty inside. The silverfish runs up her leg and into a pocket of her raincoat, shivering.

**Walk into the Window.**

The girl catches herself taking a half-step towards the nothingness. A muffled squeak emits from her pocket, and she sets her jaw.

"No."

**What's this? Since when could humans… ah, but you aren't human, you just look like one. Interesting… Tell me, how are you doing that, hmm? Nevermind, don't answer that. An Enderdragon? You don't quite feel like one…**

**Ahh, so there is a bit of Overworld, a bit of Nether in you. More than a bit of Nether, actually. Tell me, have you ever heard of Void Demons? You have. Good. Then you know what I can do. Why do you care for this pitiful kingdom of 'Crafters? Kindness, mercy, I understand none of it. Still, you will make an excellent addition to my forces.**

"And who says I'm joining you?"

**Simple. That Cogsley Nexus is going to explode in oh, say… two minutes, so step into the Window and join me… or die. I will leave you to decide. Don't bother running, little rabbit. You won't make it out of the blast radius.**

The white eyes withdraw, and she can move again. Her mind races, discarding one plan after another, until she comes to a conclusion.

"Aw, Nether."

Lopezi gingerly bends down to pick up the Cogsley. If it doesn't explode in her hands, then she'll have to go through with the next bit.

It doesn't explode.

She utters a few choice words before preparing to toss the bomb towards the Window, as the Void Demon called it. The Cogsley sails in a smooth arc… and rebounds from the nothingness.

"Forgot the blimmin' force field."

She grabs it again and, wincing, shoves it forcefully into the Window, unintentionally tripping and sending her arm in after it seconds before the timer runs out.

Coldness creeps up her arm, and she can't feel her fingers anymore.

The voice is back, but this time it echoes in her mind, dulling her thoughts. **So the little rabbit has chosen to join me- **_**AAAAAARGH**_**!**

Her mind clears for a moment, and she concentrates on slamming down every mental barrier she can think of, and invents a few new ones on the way, tugging at her arm all the while.

_Get. Out. Of. My. __**Head!**_

Lopezi lands arse first and swearing. The nothingness closes in on itself with disconcerting sucking sounds. Is that a burp at the end?

"Take that… you [BLEEP]ing… [BLEEPITY BLEEP]… piece of [BLEEP]." Dammit, she must have reactivated the obsolete censoring spells in the Silverfish. Probably an Alpha series, seeing as they were the only batch to have the spell integrated. She folds her arms and harrumphs.

Wait… _arms?_

Her left arm is perfectly normal. Her right arm though… is still there, not exploded, but the exact shade of black that was glimpsed through the Window.

She lifts the Silverfish out of her pocket and brings it up to face level.

"Howsabout we grab some donuts?"

"_And that's how I met Click," Lopezi finishes and takes a slurp of tea._

_The girl seated opposite her leans back, her hardhat tilted at a jaunty angle. "Ah, that's nothing, you should hear what we found out on stakeout duty."_

_The Enderbeast boy next to her yawns, revealing sharp fangs set in a bright purple mouth. "I was stuck in a tree looking through a rifle scope for weeks. You girls chit chat, I'm getting some sleep."_

"_Right. So we were assigned for stakeout duty near some minor tear, in this huge forest with giant trees eight times taller than an Enderman, you would've loved it…"_


	4. In Which Chaos Ensues

**In Which Chaos Ensues**

_A/N: Many, many thank yous to HPE24 for drawing the cover. I'm not happy with this chapter._

* * *

When the next attack came two months later, it was at Too-Damn-Early AM in the morning.

"_Troubleshooter squads Rho and Sigma, get your asses over to Launch Bay 4. Em-Res are waiting,_" blared into the dorm that Rho and Sigma team girls shared. All the lights clicked on simultaneously, flooding the room with an eye-searing brightness.

Lopezi yelped and fell off her bunk. She blinked blearily at the speakers on the wall and got up from her spot on the floor. The last fuzzy vestiges of sleep still clung to her brain as she hastily grabbed weapons from her private stash.

Jenny, the engineer from Rho team, strapped her yellow construction helmet on and shoved a wrench into her pocket, yawning. "Whuz th'problem now, Chief?"

"_That Shadow Forest your team scouted out? Our settlement there is being razed to the ground, so get moving and Drake, I don't care if you were mucking out the stables the whole day, drink a speed potion and deal with it. Wind, I am not gonna shove this microphone up my-_"

(Let's just skip to the Launch Bay, shall we?)

* * *

Emergency Response, or Em-Res for short, were part of the general infantry at the Keep, while the Troubleshooter squads were more specialized. However, it was mandatory for two teams to accompany rescue missions if the situation was particularly dangerous, or required a specific area of expertise. The reinforced rowan wood planks under their boots vibrated slightly from the strain of the speed of their dropship, the _Wind Walker_.

It was a falconship, built more for speed and durability than battle. A merlin's head on a flexible neck served as both a figurehead and navigator, and the metallic wings of the craft were made of long, thin metal feathers, streaked through with wisps of aercloud. A long tail at the back acted as a rudder, and could reassemble itself into a mounted machine gun loaded with armor-piercing rounds if need be (laser cannons were reserved for the heavy infantry dragonships).

"Right, you lot, listen up." Captain Ryan of Em-Res 14 was a grizzled old veteran, an experienced field agent, and when he had something to say, you shut up and listened. "Our surveillance units, before they melted, confirmed that one, it was the Salvation. Two, they're more of a disorganized rabble than an army, although idiots with powers like what we know they can do are worse than an army without. And three, they have Everblaze." He shook his head. "Only our people know how to make that, so either we have a traitor, or someone got the recipe. Most likely it's Andreus, so keep an eye out."

He pointed at Tobias. "That's where they come in. Trigshots Rho and Sigma will take care of Everblaze, we evacuate. Shoot to incapacitate, kill only if _absolutely_ necessary. Questions? No? Good. ETA two minutes. Get your last minute gear checks done."

Two minutes later, they dropped into a blazing inferno.

Tobias yelled instructions over the screaming and sounds of battle. "Seth, take Drake and Loppy, get the Everblaze contained. Alpha, Wind, with me. Jenny, set up your automata and join us. Sonia, keep an eye on her."

Seth rubbed his hands together. "Drake, ready?"

Drake Obsidian, fellow magic wielder and friendly competitor of Seth, twirled his spearstaff. "Yep. Call it, Loppy."

She whistled. No horse and cab responded to the short, shrill summons, but the air grew hot, tongues of flame crackling around her boots. The barren plains around them were suddenly alive with a presence both warm and cold at the same time.

_**Won't go back cold too cold trapped couldn't move help cold please help burn burn burn…**_

Smoke wisps of barely legible thoughts brushed against her mind. She nodded to the mages, then turned her attention to the thought wisp.

_Remember burning lakes and flying over heated rock whorls of red-_

_**Firekin, sparkfriend, help us. Everything is so very, very cold frost creeps up eyefires go out glass prison ice prison all same no no NO!**_

The thought wisp jerked away, and she almost lost it. Around the three of them, fire raged. She pounced on the squirming grey streak of light at the edge of her vision.

_C'mere you litte- look, calm down… we'll get you back to the Nether, that'll be nice, won't it? No prison._

The wisp began to solidify, a cherry red ember bursting into life at its core. It pulsed hesitantly.

_**Free? Hellheim's Gate, you have? Promise?**_

_Promise._

Flames solidified into floating columns of amber crystal, breath raspy in their newly formed throats. Seth gestured and pulled gently at something, the air shimmering in a faintly purple rectangle where he had found a Gap in the world. The blazes nodded once, and entered.

"That was horrible." Seth coughed and attempted to brush soot off of his shirt, leaving grey streaks that were going to be a pain in the neck to wash out. Magic always has a consequence, usually in the form of energy from sleep or food. You could store energy in an object for later use, or draw it directly from your surroundings, depending on the environment, which was more dangerous. The better you are at a particular type of magic, the less energy it took to use it. Seth specialized in teleportation, and Drake in necromancy. She was a decent pyromancer, but trying to reconstitute the distilled and tortured soul of a blaze had taken its toll. Her glamour was starting to slip; small black scales ran up her arms, and her fingers lengthened to claws.

"It's not over yet," Drake warned, aiming his staff at a white figure ahead. They stood back to back as more were outlined on the hill's crest.

There was a _tinkle-splash_ to the right, and the world went dark, suffocated by stinging grey clouds that made her eyes tear up.

* * *

"What have we here… no this lot won't do for the Lord, they're allied with Herobrine. Don't bother converting them, their minds are shielded," something, or someone, purred. Knowing him, the line between the two was unclear at best.

"Like my new blindness potion?" she could practically hear it grinning. "I made it myself. It should wear off in three… two… one…". The clouds dissipated to reveal a circle of blades pointed at the three of them, wielded by soldiers dressed all in white, the color of quartz.

Or bone.

"Children as soldiers? How depraved is Herobrine?" a Salvatore murmured. "Sir, I thought you said his minions were daemons-"

"Watch it, I'll bet I'm at least seven hundred years older than you, Sally," Lopezi snarled, letting her Mobscura slide a bit more. Her eyes flashed yellow. He started and stepped back, jaw set.

"Appearances can be deceiving, Private." One whose robes had more gold stitching than a billionaire's pajamas leaned forward, gently shaking a bottle of green liquid. He might have looked quite nice if not for the fact that his only visible were a pair of grey eyes; the rest of his face and most of his flesh was a tarry, drippy substance. Pointy teeth bared in a manic grin. "Any last words?"

"Since you're asking," Seth chuckled weakly. "Logan "Lily Liver" Andreus, for the attempted summoning of a daemon and deliberate murder and sacrifice of twelve innocent kids, you have been sentenced by Herobrine to eternal damnation. See you in hell."

"If I'm being charged for murder, what about her?" She felt cold metal at the base of her spine. "She's been working as an assassin since she got to Ithaca."

"I didn't really get rid of them, just relocated 'em somewhere safe. Not saying where," she replied guardedly. "It was either me, or they hired someone else to take care of the poor shmuck later."

"Much as I'd _love_ to stay and chat, we have some recruiting to do. Kill them."

"I don't think so." Drake abruptly stuck the business end of his spearstaff into a Salvatore's sternum, while Seth gestured and hissed something just out of hearing range. Swirling wisps seemed to implode from the ground, isolating everyone in a chilly, clingy mist.

"I hate it when he does that." Drake's voice drifted from somewhere to her left, along with dull thumps and an occasional cracking.

She spun to the side, then swung her fist in a vicious right hook that sent her one time guard to the land of Use Bad Cursewords. "No you don't," she called back and dropped to the ground, the wind from his sword's passing ruffling her hair. She kept moving, dodging and weaving, using her small frame and speed to hit him and run, diving in and out of the sight.

Iron sliced through mist towards her, too fast to run from. She brought up her left arm, sheathed in an iron and leather glove. Metal hit metal with a clang. She bounced back with the impact, then sprang forwards, clocking him in the face with her strange gauntlet attachment; three sharp hooks on a spinning rotor to use the momentum for added strength. She bowed.

"I took great pleasure in breaking your nose. Mine's knocked out, you guys done?"

"Just about," Drake grunted, dragging two Salvatores behind him. "Seth?"

"Got one Sally. Logan escaped." He scowled. Seth, Drake and Logan had some history. "Boss had specific orders for him." A rare edge of sadness and anger clouded his gaze.

They had just finished tying up the five Sallies when one broke free, tearing open a portal that spewed out faceless humanoids, with blades instead of hands.

She held up her hooksheath. "Shall we?"

"Ready when you lot are."

"Oi! Hurry up!" Drake made a rude hand gesture that she probably should not remember. "We haven't got all night!"

* * *

"That's the last of them." Captain Ryan remarked as his men marched the Salvatores into the cargo hold of _Wind Walker_. "Seems like they were recruiting."

A soldier snorted. "Press ganging, more like."

"Time to get back. We'll wipe their minds, get them rehabilitated."

Tobias nodded. "And the settlers?"

"Doesn't look like we can rebuild this. They'll have to come with us." He eyed the de facto leader of the settlement. "You talk to Mr and Mrs Mercator, convince them."

Lopezi winced. Mrs Mercator's shrill voice could be heard from inside the falconship, which was saying something; the ship was reinforced.

Jenny smacked her head against a wall. "Looks like we're gonna be here for a while."


End file.
